Harry Potter's Magik and the Stone
by TCov91
Summary: Harry Potter must cope with not only learning he is not only a magical being, but that he is a legend in a world completely beyond his wildest imaginations. *Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter or any canon characters. The story is my own as are custom made characters. Thank you for taking up my fiction.
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter's Magik and the Philosopher's Stone**

 **Proluge**

The redish glow reflecting off of the snowy capped mountain ranges could be seen for miles while the stray streaks of light would fly upwards towards the sky before dispersing into nothingness. Smoke billowing from different segments of the battlefield seemed to rise endlessly.

Screams of agony and horror were echoeing off into the night, some words recognizable as English; some a language not learned by most of mankind.

Hundreds of bodies layed sprawled accross the battlefield. Most were charred or damaged beyond recognition. One would have to watch their footing as they trekked over the corpses and severed appendages.

The great battle had begun hours ago, many lives and families were lost and destroyed in the waning hours of the night. Man was fighting man, Dragons fighting Elder Elven. The eternal fued between the two great ancient races had been reignited due to the incessant conflict of their respective students.

The fields were dampened with pools of blood, man's, dragon's and elven's. The latent amount of residual magic had become almost physical, creating a gravitional pull of sorts upon the war zone.

 **Summit of the nearest mountain**

A congregation of men clad in dark robes witnessed and revelled in the death and destruction caused by the battle below.

"The time is near brethren. Our objectives are now well within our grasp and the preperations have been completed." A tall hooded figure hissed. "Take your places, for the night of the resurrection has begun. The needed blood and magic has been shed and spent. Our time has come." The figure turned away from the mountains edge, cloak billowing behind him as he made his way toward the massive and intricate runescape.

The silent figures that surround him began to disperse quickly to their designated locations atop multiple runes drawn onto the ground. Once all were in place the original figure glided into the eye of the scape and stood upon the center rune.

"Lost ones from the plane of Nether! Cast unto I, the unholy curse you weild! Embrace me as your own and accept my offering of blood and magic. Spilled from our enemies and taken for our own." The figure began to chant out. His pupils began to dissolve into the whites of his eyes, removing any sign of consciencesness.

The massive pools of blood below began to trickle upwards at a growing pace and pooling nearly at the same hight of the mountain peak. The surrounding magic began to crackle and swirl upwards. It spun and rolled into a ring surrounding the pool above floating in the sky. Flashes of eldrich lightning struck at the pool from the ring causing it to start to glow an eery red. The rest of the warriors fighting took note and all began to look upwards not realizing what was taking place.

Each rune began to activate and engulf the figure standing within it in a disturbing red fire. Seering every once of their beings they cried out in pain and agony. They would be sacrificed unknowingly in an attempt to reach immortallity. The irony couldn't be more fitting.

"Banish the decrepit ancients from this plane so that we may conquer the light and control this world!" Use me as your vessel to purge this impure land!" The figured cried out as he was also engulfed in the unatural red flame. It consumed him from his very soul outward. His features began to rot and corrode with the dark magic that surrounded him. Once the flames were fed he, or rather it, stood, a husk of his former self, completely still. His face pointed upwards, beams of red light shone from his open eyes and mouth straight up towards the heavens as if in an attempt to pierce and corrupt them.

 **The center of the battlefield below**

A man fighting valiantly on the battlefield fought off both Drakon and Eldren, the ancient kings in an attempt to force both to yield. This hero was once the leader of man, before the desintigration of peace and understanding that was thrust unto the land. No other human had gained the reknown he had, even among the ancients he demanded respect. He had been the sole benefactor of receiving training in both types of magik. He had united the Dragon trained Mages and the Elven taught Wizards. He was the appointed Warlock Merlin, the diety among his followers of the Order of the phoenix.

"Why must all suffer at the hands of those we once called brother?" He yelled as the three way battle raged.

The destruction caused by these beings could rip continents apart if left unchecked or uncontrolled. They were almost immune to the battle raging around them, nothing could break the concentration of these three monsters, except for Merlin's when the blood of his comrads began rising up in front his very eyes.

Knowing that the battle was lost and the ancients relations non salvagable. He fled that battle to gather his forces.

"The sect has made their move." Merlin exclaimed as he marched upon the last contigent of his men."I fear that what we had tried so painfully hard to prevent...has unreversibly begun." He said with a grave tone. Knowing that the battle was a loss, and that the outcome had now become set in stone. He and his Order of the Phoenix, knew what they now had to accomplish.

"We may have failed in keeping the peace and preventing the loss of the ancients, but we will not allow the Sect to go unchecked. We must take our leave now...for we have a difficult and treacherous road ahead." With Merlins final words of the battle, he and his order vanished with a resounding *CRACK*

Almost instantaneously the red pool above shot down an all encompassing beam that swallowed all things below and cast those remaining on the battlefield into an abyss of the unknown. The ancients that had once ruled this world, had vanished and been lost to time.


	2. Chapter 2

*Hey guys TCov here I hope you enjoyed my little prologue and i know that this took a while to get done. I really hop eyou enjoy this and that it is written in a not so terrible way lol I have never wrote a ficiton before so please...bare with me...OK so ya i could really use some betas if anybody is intrested please PM me. I plan on redoing the first few books in a somewhat canonnical way until probably OOTP. No definate romances yet but i already had a few in mind :)I know the chapter is short but i plan on doin shorter ones with more of them due to my time available to writew and not wanting to go long stretches without updating. So please enjoy and rate, review and PM me about and questions!

 **Chapter 1: Happy Birthday**

Burning emerald eyes, brighter than most would deem possible, shot open as images of death and destruction danced through the owners mind. The young boy sat straight up without remembering one, vey important thing. _**THUD**_

"OUCH! ARGHHH!" His head had made rather hard contact with the bottom of the low set of stairs.

"I cant stop forgetting that." The boy groaned to himself as he laid back down slowly rubbing his head. He ran his fingers through his untamed jet black mane revealing a very defined and destinct lightning bolt shaped scar on the upper right hand corner of his forehead. No matter how he tried to force his hair to his whim it just sprang back up in random spots and directions as if having a life of its own.

"Why bother?" He spoke gently to himself. He then closed his eyes and his brows furrowed.

 _What have these nightmares been? They seem so... so real...but theres no possible way they could be...could they?_ He mused in his thoughts. _First the strange green flashes and screams and now this? Seven years old and I'm losing it. Damn Dursleys._

The boy opened his eyes and noticed a faint hue of light entering from under the small room's door. "Time to get up anyway I guess." He said with a sigh. He opened the door revealing a quaint and rather underwhelming living room or rather an entire underwhelming house. He then quietly closed the door to what could be now seen as not a proper room but a cubboard under the stairs. He made his way to the kitchen as he did every morning to prepare his most hospitible _hosts_ their breakfasts. He had just finished placing the final plate onto the kitchen table to set it when his Aunt Petunia, a skinny, lenghtly, horse faced woman entered through the archway.

"What is your freakishness doing in here still?" She said with a harsh tone directed to the boy. "You should have started on those flower beds by now!" She looked at him expectantly as he slowly lowered his head.

"I am sorry Aunt Petunia." He spoke gingerly with little to no pride. "I am almost finished cooking the bacon then I will start on them shortly." He eagerly turned his attention back to the frying pan that was currently on the stove trying to avoid her glares towards him. After a short time he slowly looked back over his right shoulder to see his Aunt had taken her seat and was busyi ng herself with this mornings paper fashion or celebrity section. Either of which he truly did not care. Then slowly raised his hand over the pan tho try to sneak a bit of bacon when suddenly his hand force forciblly pressed down into the searing hot pan filled with bacon grease. He screamed out in extreme agony.

"BOY YOU DO NOT STEAL MY FOOD!" His Uncle Vernon bellowed into his ear as he must have entered when the boy wasnt paying attention. " I RAISE YOUR WORTHLESS ASS AND YOU STEAL FROM ME?!" His uncled easily raised him up off the ground by the boys wrist he had snatched earlier to throw him rather painfully onto the ground near the back door. "GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE AND YOU BETTER HAVE YOUR AUNTS FLOWER BEDS LOOKING PERFECT WHEN I GET HOME YOU FILTH!" He thundered as the boy hurried to recover and run throught the door towards the backyard.

The boy ran as fast as he could towards the shed in corner of the back yard. He resisted with all his might to scream any further so as to not ensure futher pain be inflicted upon him this day. As he opened and closed the door as quickly as he could he dropped to his knees. He held his right wrist with his left hand looking at the burns caused on the palm on his right. Tears were falling straight away as he could no longer hold them back.

"Please stop. Please Stop. Please Stop." He repeated over and over again referring to the pain. He scrunched his eyes closed as hard as he could and fervently rocked back and forth. He tried with all his might and more at willing the pain away. Slowly, but very much noticeably the pain did just that. Within minutes the pain was nearly gone as he slowly opened his eyes to look down upon the palm of his hand.

"Just another day in the life of Harry Potter. Happy Birthday to me." He spoke in a depressed broken tone as he gazed downwards as a tear fell from his cheek. His hand had almost entirely healed. There were slight burns but nothing major. He stood back up and walked over to the back bench wrist still in hand. He grabbed a small medical kit that he stored in the shed out (His family never entered here so it was his own little safe haven). He opened it and removed some gauze wrap to bandage up his hand more so to hide his miraculous healing than anything else. "Would rather not have to deal with being beat for doing something _freakish_ again." Harry said as flexed his hand to verify the bandage was adequate. He then hastily left the small shed with a small garden shovel and rake in hand to get on with todays daily chores.

Harry had not noticed or felt that he had a set of eyes fixed upon him. Gazing intently from the bush line behind the shed a man stood himself up and brushed himself off from kneeling in the mulch. He sighed deapply and then stalked his way over to the boy that was working intently on the flower bed accross the yard with jis back towards him.

"Harry Potter?" The man called out from half way acroos the yard.

Harry shot up and turned around in a flash of fear and startlement. "Who...who are you? What do you want?" Harry stammered as he took a very calculkated step backwards.

The man was somewhat tall ands seemed to be built rather well. He had a very weathered look about him. The man had a very chiseled face adorned with a dark brown goatee and he had dark brown swept back hair as well. What really caught harry off guard was the rather strange attire this man was wearing. He was wearing what looked some sort of form fitting red colored robes under what could only be described as light armor on his abdomen, shims and forearms. The piece on his chest had a few throwing knives strapped to it and he carried a sword onhis side.

The man gained a kind and gentle smile as he stared at the boy before him. "I, Harry Potter, am Wyatt Evans. I am here to finally take you home."

Harry's mouth gaped open at the mans last words. He felt such an array of emotions he hadn't a clue what to say or think. The only response that he could give was to subsequently, succumb to the extreme dizinesss and rining in his ears as he fell forward and passed out as the last thing he saw was the rather hard ground coming quickly and furiously. "Bugger" Was the last word that he whispered out before he slammed face first into the ground. Happy Birthday Harry Potter, may they never be the same again.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys thank you for the views and favorites. Hopefully you all enjoy this fiction so far. Shout out to LeafRanger for the posotive criticism and the help. Please peeps give me some reviews so that I can develop my wiriting and give yall the best story I can! Thanks in advance and her we go...

 **Chapter 2: Warehouses**

Wyatt sat quietly in the corner of the average sized bed room. Harry was sleeping rather fitfully in the bed resting in the center of the bedroom against the walls opposite of him. Harry had been been sleeping since Wyatt had picked him up from the Dursleys, Harry's aunt and uncle's home.

"No...No...Who?...Why?..." Harry was mumbling incoherently in his sleep.

Wyatt's brows furrowed together and he gained a quizzical look upon his face. _How could a seven year old boy be having such nightmares?_ He thought to himself. Harry had began to become more restless and started to thrash around just a bit more. He decided it be best to finally wake the boy up than rather let him suffer throught whatever he had been dreaming about.

"Harry wake up. Its time to wake up kid." Wyatt said as he jossled Harry's shoulder in an attempt to stir him awake. "Come on kid you need to get up." He shook him a little harder without trying to frighten him. As he finished his sentence Harry shot up and instantly brought his arms and hands to his face to cover himself up like he was guarding a barrage of blows to his head.

"I'm sorry Uncle! I'm sorry please don't punish me I'll get up and do whatever you need. Please don't hit me again!" Harry yelled loudly with his eyes squeezed shut and a complete look of terror on his face.

"Harry it's quite alright. Nobody is ever gonna hurt you again I promise you." Wyatt spoke gently and stirnly as he placed both hands onto the young boy's shaking shoulders. "Your far away from those people and your not going back there." He was trying whatever he could to calm Harry down. _Jesus what did those basrtards do to you?_

"I..I'm safe?" Harry spoke quietly as he registered what the man was saying. Slowly he opened his eyes and lowered his arms beginning to look around in a confused manner. "Where am I? Who are you? Where did you take me?" Wyatt noticed the fear beginning to creep back into his voice the longer his sentence ran on.

"Keep calm Harry. I'm a friend and I only have the best intentions for you." He said as he raised his hands up in a manner to slow Harry down. "You and I have a lot to talk about and I have a lot of things to tell you. But first, when is the last time you had a decent meal? It doesn't seem my damn sister and her fat pig took very good care of you."

Harry looked at the man and looked down to floor showing how embarressed he was. "I haven't eaten in...one, maybe one and a half days. Last night I took a bite of some stale bread I was hiding in case my stomach hurt too badly." Harry's eyes suddenly went wide and his eyes snapped at Wyatt with a look of shock plastered on to his face. "You just called my Aunt sister didn't you! There is no possible way! There was only her and my mom! Your lying to me!" Harry started to get a little upset. "Don't mess with me! Theres nobody else! I don't have anyone else! I only have them and they hate me! DON'T TRY TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER THEN LIE TO ME!" Harry was standing on the bed at this point his hand balled into fists and his eyes squeezed shut once again. The room began to grow with tension the angrier Harry had gotten. Wyatt took a step back from the bed with a small smirk on his face as he watched the boy before him.

Harry then screamed from the top of his lungs as a wave of fire shot outward from his core in all directions. Wyatt took half a step and leaned forward as he clapped both hands together with his finger tips pointing evenly at the wave of fire. The wave simply split around him and incinerated the walls of the room room hehind him along with pretty much everything else. Harry had collapsed onto his knees on the bed after the wave was released, his eyes wide.

"I...I'm sorry...I didn't mean to...I'm...I'm just a freak..." Harry looked down at the sheets distraughtly. He waited there waiting for the man before to retaliate and beat him just like his uncle had before, but it never came. Wyatt had taken a few steps forward again and reached out placing his hand onto the boys head.

"Now that...was impressive there Harry." Wyatt said to the boy with a large grin. Harry looked up to him with a look of bewilderment. "Its quite alright Harry, your not the only **FREAK** here." Wyatt too his hand from Harry's head and held it up in fron of the boy as if holding a ball. Abruptly a flame sprung to life around the man's hand dancing and swirling about. "Pretty neat huh? Flame magic. Pretty powerful stuff right here bud." He spoke to the young boy as th eflame died out almost as quickly as it came to life.

"There...theres no way." Harry look on in amazement as the flame died down and the mans hand was left unburned. "Magic isn't even real. My uncle always said freakshow magic isn't even real whenever I did something strange. That was what i was doing? I was doing magic?" Harry looked at Wyatt with his mouth gaped open.

"You my boy, are going to have one hell of a time with me." Wyatt said gaining his grin again. "Yes what you just did and every other time was magic Harry. And to answer your question earlier, yes I was speaking about your Aunt Petunia, my half sister. Which...also makes your mother...my half sister. I did not know either sadly. That is a rather..complicated story honestly." Wyatt rubbed the back of his head and looked away from the boy. "I am your uncle Harry. I know you have no idea who I really am, and I have no prrof really to back up my claims, but I am and i wish i could have found you sooner." He look back at the boy seeing his eyes start to flicker with light.

"Your my uncle?" Harry spoke and looked down as tears began to build up in his eyes. "I thought...I thought that they were all that was left." He looked back at Wyatt witha lone tear running down his cheek. "I never met my parents...did...did you.." Harry spoke almost desperately.

Wyatt frowned. "No I'm sorry Harry. As i said i never met neither of my sisters. Well, until recently I met Petunia. What did they ever tell you about them. Or rather yourself?" He asked bringing a hand to his chin as he rubbed his goatee in a thoughtful manner.

"They told me that my parents were killed a car crash because my father was drunk." He said through his teeth. " Thats how I got this scar." He pointed directly to his scarabove his right eye.

"God dammit." Wyatt sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Seriously? Thats what they told you? First I finally find you after years of searching, then I realize your being abused by our own family for christs sake, you have no idea about your heritage of your parents or how they really died and your completely unguarded. What is wrong with those damn wizards. Never made any sense to me about anything they do." He raised his arms over his head in a dejected manner.

"What are you talking about over there?" Harry spoke raising an eye brow at the man.

Wyatt pulled the chair in the corner closer the bed so he wouldn't have to speak very loudly. Sighing he spoke. "You, as your parents were before you, are a wizard, or rather father a wizard and your mother a witch, and not in the normal nonmag sense."

"Nonmag? What does that mean? Harry looked at him tilting his head a little.

"Non-magical Harry. It's what we call people who can't or don't know about magic. We tend to keep it very secret. We wouldn't wanna brandish ourselves and being with special powers for all the world to know now would we? Wyatt stated rather than questioned.

"Yea I guess that would make sense." Harry nodded understandingly. "How..how did my parents die?" He said as he got rather ckoked up.

"Harry...how do I put this lightly...your parents were...murdered." He clenched his jaw and looked rather angry. "His name was Voldemort. He was a bastard of a man, **IF** you could call him a man. He was a crazed psycopath hell bent on ruling the world. Cliche'd right?" He and Harry slightly chuckled at his attempt to lighten the mood. "Your parents stood up to him and his people. I guess he targeted them on your first birthday. Your parents tried to fight back, but he was powerful, frighteningly so. Your mother sacrificed herself when he attempted to kill you in front of her." He paused sighing in the process. His face seemed age as he thought to himself. "He then attempted to kill you, but whatever he tried to do backfired. He ended up getting killed himself and you received that scar in the process." He pointed to Harry's forehead. "Chicks dig scars right?" He half headrtedly smile.

Subconscienciously Harry gingerly raised his hand to trace the outline of his scar with his finger. "All because of one man?" He barely spoke aloud. He then looked up and bore straight into Wyatt's eyes. "Why weren't you there? Why weren't you fighting him too?" The anger began to grow inside of him once again. He tried to keep control this time as best as he could, he did not want another flame episode.

Wyatt could feel the tension build up in the room as Harry waited for an answer. He knew that the boy wouldn't be able to harm him, but nobody likes having to defend themselves regardless. "To put it simply as possible, I wasnt allowed Harry." He looked down at the ground in shame. Hoping Harry would be able to understand his predicament.

The answer not doing much to dispel his animosity, Harry leaned back to sit normally as his knees were tired and sore from sitting in that posotion. He bit his lower and stared off in deep thought. Wyatt had noticed this and waited for his reply. _Geez this kid isn't a typical seven year old. Wild magic, mood swings, nightmares and now he looks like hes about to figure out the meaning to life._

Harry slowly nodded to himself as if he had decided something. "Wyatt, you said that my parents and myself were wizards, right?" Wyatt nodded in response and Harry took that as his cue to continue. "Your saying that...as if your not one..." Wyatt got a small smirk and slowly shook his head knowing what was going to be asked of him. "Then what **EXACTLY** are you then?"

"Damn you got a noggin on ya." Wyatt said with a wide grin. "I myself, Harry, are what you would call a mage." Wyatt leaned back in the chair and folded his arms still smiling. _Note to self never hide something from Harry. The little shit'll figue it out anyway._ He mused to himself

"Ok...so...what in the queens name is a mage?" Harry said throwing his arms up in disbelief. "I am just so damn lost now! What's the difference between a wizard and a mage!" Harry now had his arms out the side as he asked the question.

"Well.." Wyatt was rubbing his chin again thinking on how to differentiate the two. "Honestly I dont have too much knowledge about wizards...we tend to keep seperate from them. They're all smoke and mirrors, lets stay away from the world, blah blah blah." He started to rant to himself. "They completly shut themselves away from nonmag life and everything involved in general. We mages on the other hand dont have the means that they do to accomplish this. Our magics are fundamentally different, which I will be training you as a mage from here on out by the way." Wyatt said as he grinned and winked at Harry to which his face lit up. "You will learn all that soon enough,. Now..back to what I was sayin'...oh yea...We have entwined our culture if you will with the nonmags, we live within their society, hidden, but always there and ready. Sadly though...when Voldemort was running free our leaders...well they wouldnt stand to him. They claimed that it wasnt our fight quite yet. We are to only help the nonmags and not get involved with wizard affairs. Damn old farts just too lazy to act." He slammed his fist on the arm of the chair making Harry slightly jump. "Sorry Har didn't mean to startle ya." He apologized as he didnt wanna make the boy skittish.

"So...your gonna teach me?" Harry was now on all fours on the bed as he stared at Wyatt intently, a shimmer in his eyes making them shine brightly. Wyatt grinned at Harry and nodded. Harry now had the widest grin he could ever remember having. "Brilliant!" Harrys stomach decided now was the best time to growl as if it had never been fed before to which Harry sat back once again and blushed. "About that food again..." Harrys said cheekily.

Wyatt couldn't hold back his mirth and laughed loudly. "Ahhh Harry thats comedic gold! C'mon lets get you some food. We got a long road ahead of us bud. He sat up and made his way to the door as Harry raced over to his side. Wyatt placed his hand on the boys head as he opened the door for them to exit.

"Hey Wyatt?" Harry said to get his attention as they made their way out down the long hallway.

"Sup Harry? He said looking down at the boy.

"You American have one weird language" He said laughing.

"Coming from the bloody Brit." They laughed as they made their way down the hallway. _This kids gonna be somethin' special. I'm calling this one right now._


End file.
